Haven's Writing Desk

Finally, her aunt turned to face her once more, a thin smile gracing her lips. “I brought you more food. I know you’re running low.”

“Thank you, Aunt Maeve,” she murmured in reply as her mind began to race.

She’d planned this all out so carefully over the past several days, but even so she knew the odds were beyond slim that she’d get her wish for whatever day Maeve decided her birthday was this year. Still, she knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t try.

Maeve scowled. “I can hear you thinking from here, girl. What is it?”

Well, it was now or never. Celaena took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about what I want for my birthday this year,” she began.

“You got something for your birthday last year.”

Celaena forced herself to laugh as though her aunt had made the world’s funniest joke, even as she felt like a small knife was stabbing into her chest. “That’s the thing, Aunt Maeve, birthdays come every year. Listen, I was thinking—”

“Yes, yes, get to the point,” Maeve interrupted, dark eyes blazing.

Celaena took a deep breath, fisting her hands in her long hair behind her back. This was it. Now or never. “There’s a festival happening this weekend in the city across the river. I’d like to see it, just once.”

Dark fire burned ever hotter in her aunt’s eyes, a sure sign that she had misstepped somehow. “Have you forgotten everything I’ve ever told you about the world outside this tower?”

Shit. “No, Aunt Maeve, I only—”

“Celaena Sardothien, I know we have been over all of this before, countless times. How many people would steal you away, hoping to exploit your water magic? And your magic, it’s not remotely strong enough for you to fend them off yourself! This tower is the only thing keeping you from a terrible death or a life in chains.”

Oh, she was in for it now. Her aunt could go on for hours imagining gruesome fates for her should she step one foot outside this tower. “I thought—”

“Besides, you’re hardly presentable, dear. No shoes? A dress six inches too short? You’ll be laughed out of the town before you can begin to celebrate—if you can even make it there.”

None of which was her own fault, but she could hardly say that now. “I thought perhaps if we went together, you could protect me,” she tried instead.

“I’m flattered that you think so highly of me, dear, but it’s simply not going to happen,” her aunt replied. “You are not leaving this tower, and that is final.”

She sighed internally, allowing her eyes to close for a brief moment and unclenching her fists. It had been too much to hope for. Time to appease her aunt. “You’re right, of course. Especially about my clothes. Maybe instead you could bring me some of that fabric you got three years ago? I could make another dress. Perhaps I could even make you one that matched, if you’d like.”

Maeve scowled, but the dark fire seemed to calm slightly. “That would have me gone from you nearly a week, Celaena.”

“I know, Aunt Maeve. And I’ll miss you terribly, of course. I simply thought perhaps it was a smarter decision than asking you to allow me to put my life in danger on a whim.”

“I suppose that’s true enough,” her aunt allowed. “You’re certain you’ll be all right? I haven’t been gone that long for quite some time now.”

Celaena smiled. “I know. I’ll be all right here, I promise. The tower protects me, and the charm you gave me hides me.”

It took several more agonizingly long minutes, but finally her aunt was mollified enough to leave. “I’ll be back in a week, dear!” she called from the dirt below.

“I’ll be here!” Celaena called back, hoping her aunt couldn’t hear any of the frustration she felt.

She waved until she could no longer see her aunt’s silhouette, then reached beneath her mattress. Yes, the scrap of fabric she’d hidden away was still there. She couldn’t do anything about her clothes, of course; she’d have to steal some when she was in town. No, this was for something else altogether; it was the perfect size for bundling together some needed supplies.

She’d hoped she would be able to talk Aunt Maeve into letting her go, but she had no intention of missing the festival. Not this year. The town across the river was only two days away, and she would have plenty of time to return to the tower before Maeve could get back. She could do this.

Maybe it would prove to her aunt that Celaena was more capable than she believed.

A loose page from one of her collection of books had long ago been repurposed into a coded list, and she read from it now, gathering what food she could and a vessel for drinking water from the river on her journey. Her knives were next, carefully sharpened and then sheathed. She was contemplating the small frying pan from the stove when a loud noise by the window caused her to startle.

~*~*~

There were few things in this world Rowan hated more than himself, but one of them was certainly a plan gone wrong.

Breaking into the castle had been beyond easy, thanks to the information provided by Tern and Sam. The guards were on high alert thanks to the approaching holiday, but nobody ever thought to post guards on the roof. Additionally, no one thought to be suspicious of a bird landing on said roof.

It would be their undoing, really. Fae who could shift into birds were rare on this side of the sea, but they did exist.

Slipping into the upper levels from the roof had been equally easy, his hawk form easily slipping through a small gap in a window in the warm late spring day. Making his way down to the throne room was slightly more difficult, as a bird would not go unnoticed so deep within the castle, but he was able to successfully keep to the shadows until he reached an unmarked door.

The door had led to a passageway to the rear of the throne room, just as his informants had promised, and he had been able to silently reach the plinth in the center of the room and tuck the crown away into a satchel. Then he’d looked up and directly into the furious eyes of the Wolf of the North himself.

He should’ve known this was a terrible idea and the witch was trying to get him killed after all. Of all the contingencies he’d considered, being hunted by Aedion Ashryver was the one he had feared the most. Though not Fae, or distantly Fae at best, the man was absolutely relentless when it came to pursuit, fast and strong with unnaturally sharp senses. Rowan could outrun him, he was reasonably certain, but he wasn’t looking forward to the attempt at all.

Well, he supposed it was no less than what he deserved for stealing Mab’s crown in the first place.

He shifted immediately, talons grasping the leather of the satchel as he took flight. He just barely managed to fly into the corridors before the door could close, and a sharp burst of his magic directed at a window caused it to shatter in a sudden gust of wind.

He just had to get to the skies. Once he was there, there was nothing that could stop him.

He heard the shouts of several men behind him, and a sound that was likely someone fumbling with a quiver, but the broken window was so close now. If he stopped to deal with them, there was a good chance he’d never make it out of the palace. He had to keep going.

He called a wind to speed his way across the corridor, and with a screech of triumph he flew through the window. Now he only had to get to the rendezvous point and confirm the deed was done. Tern and Sam would pass the word through their employer, and the witch would call on him when she was ready to receive the crown.

And then he could be done with this, forever.

The grove they had decided upon as a meeting point wasn’t far, and within a few short moments he was circling the edges of the small clearing. The others weren’t in sight yet, though that was hardly a surprise as they would have to make the journey on foot. He landed in a tree, making sure to keep a firm grip on the satchel, and settled in to wait.

He waited longer than he should have before realizing the whole setup was a trap. When a man with golden hair raced towards him down the path instead of the two brunets he was expecting, he reprimanded himself sternly before preparing to run.

An arrow whizzed by his head as he burst into flight once more, cursing himself even as his wings beat against the winds. He should’ve known that a pair of hired thieves would have other plans, and would be more than all right with letting him get captured if it meant they had an opportunity to ambush the men who returned the crown to the palace.

If he hadn’t been in desperate flight, he might have smiled. He’d have paid good coin to see those two try to outwit the Wolf of the North, and it would almost be worth the price of his life.

Almost, but not quite. The debt he had taken on, the debt he was working to repay, was not solely his own, and if he died before it was paid he knew the witch would not hesitate to reclaim it from those who outlived him. No, he had to live, and he had to see this through.

The trees granted him cover for a time, but as branches snagged at the satchel he realized the risks of staying concealed within them. The shield of wind he’d manifested around himself would aid him for a time, but he hadn’t prepared correctly to maintain such protection the entire way back to his employer. He had to make a decision, quickly, and pray that he would be able to outrun his pursuers.

He glanced to his left, to the hills and fields of the south. The border lay in that direction, he recalled, less than a day’s flight away. Perhaps the guardsmen pursuing him would not so easily follow into a neighboring country. It would take time, and careful negotiation, and that granted him a chance to slip away if he was fast enough.

It was a risk he was going to have to take if he wanted to have any hope of presenting the satchel to his employer.

Rowan banked heavily around a large tree and veered off to the south, barely paying attention to his route even as the trees gave way to cold hard ground beneath him. His lack of attention and his exhaustion would prove to be his downfall as he burst through a window he had somehow missed, only for his world to immediately turn black.

~*~*~

Aedion could barely hear the orders he barked to his men as he raced for the stables, gaze fixed on the dark shape he could see quickly disappearing into the skies. He heard more than saw the way people rapidly moved out of his way, probably taking one look at his face before immediately putting as much distance between them as possible.

Good. He didn’t have time to deal with anyone else right now, he had a Fae criminal to catch.

Part of him wondered if the creature was even aware of what it had done. There were only a few Fae that lived in Terrasen, many preferring the lands across the sea, and it was possible that this one somehow hadn’t heard of the lost princess. He very much doubted it, though; the crown the creature had stolen was famous, as was the girl—the woman, now—who was supposed to have worn it.

As he reached the stables and mounted his horse, one of his men caught up to him, a bit of parchment clutched in one hand. “Sir! Sir, we just got word that—”

“This had better have to do with the thief I’m pursuing,” he growled, turning the full force of angry Ashryver eyes on the guardsman.

“Y-yes, sir! A tip on a rendezvous point, sir.”

Before the man could say anything else, Aedion yanked the parchment out of his grip and began to read it furiously. The grove it spoke of wasn’t far, and it would be easy enough to catch his thief there. Wordlessly, he turned his mount in that direction and began to ride.

As he burst through the gate, two more of his men left their posts to pursue him. Good, exactly according to the plans he had given them if something were to go wrong. He wasn’t certain exactly how useful they would be against one of the Fae, but it would surely be better than nothing.

He slowed the group as they reached the grove, knowing that surprise would be one of the few things on their side in the fight to come. The guardsman riding on his left raised a shortbow, and Aedion raised a single fist, knowing the man would recognize his signal and take careful aim as he awaited the signal to fire.

The signal came a few seconds later, his hand slicing forward as he let it fall, and he scowled as the arrow narrowly missed their prey. They’d have to pursue the Fae through the woods, now, where it would have an inherent advantage given its slight form and its wings.

It was flying encumbered, though, the satchel holding the crown almost as large as its avian form. Maybe that would slow it down just enough. He just had to stay in pursuit.

Unfortunately, his quarry proved to be both intelligent and aware of its surroundings, and before they could hope to catch up Aedion was cursing as the hawk he pursued flew over the border between Terrasen and Adarlan.

“What do we do, sir?” asked one of the guardsmen.

Aedion scowled, eyes fixed on the form disappearing into the skies. “Both of you, report back to the palace immediately. The king and queen will need to know what happened.”

He felt it more than saw it when the two guardsmen hesitated. “But… what will you do, sir?” one of them dared to ask.

“The same thing I’ve been doing for years,” he muttered. “Begging forgiveness rather than seeking permission.”

“You can’t be saying you intend—”

“I intend to put an end to this,” Aedion snapped, unable to keep the growl from his voice. “One guardsman can go where even a group dare not, and if we break off our pursuit now we will lose that crown forever. Now go.”

The two men snapped to attention at the tone of his voice, but Aedion couldn’t spare even a moment to feel guilty for it. He continued on, not even bothering to glance behind him. He knew the men would follow their orders and turn back; he’d trained them too well for them to do anything less, and they knew he spoke the truth.

A team of guardsmen from a neighboring country would be apprehended on sight, but one lone guard straying over the border had more of an opportunity to spin an excuse. Aedion didn’t intend to be in Adarlan for long, anyway.

As he continued to ride, the hawk slowly slipped out of his sight. He continued on, though; the creature had been following a straight course from the moment it had crossed the border, either due to exhaustion or due to confidence that it had lost its pursuers. All he had to do was follow, and he would find the Fae creature and take back his cousin’s crown.

A moment of hope struck him. The Fae had always had an affinity for the royal family, which was at least partly of Fae descent itself. Was it possible this had been a sign? Had this creature stolen the crown away not as a final insult as their hope continued to wane, but as a sign and a direction to continue his search?

He scowled and shook his head. No, the act had been that of an opportunist, and a desperate one at that. This was not going to be a rescue mission. It was going to be one of vengeance.

As Aedion continued to ride south, a tower began to slowly appear on the horizon, the only visible building anywhere nearby. Could it really be that simple? Could his quarry’s hiding place truly be such an obvious one?

He smiled. The Fae had been exhausted when he’d last lost sight of it; it couldn’t have gotten much further than this. All he had to do was draw nearer to the tower and wait. His prey would show itself eventually.

~*~*~

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